


When She Smiles

by MissVaswani



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, F/M, Graphic Description, Gratuitous Smut, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Nightmares, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissVaswani/pseuds/MissVaswani
Summary: Kormac has found himself infatuated with Lorelai, a female necromancer and his closest travelling companion. Awkward shenanigans ensue.





	When She Smiles

Kormac has seen women before, they aren’t foreign to him. They aren’t mystical, or rare to his eyes, but this one is. Lorelai rends flesh from bone without the bat of a dark eye, pale skin covered in a seemingly permanent layer of ichor and blood. The woman is terrifying, truly, and she is gorgeous. He studies her form in combat, forever graceful in a way that would be horrific if not for the way she twisted and turned. Long legs, white-blonde hair dipped in morning light, and scythe in hand…  
Bewitching. That’s all he can let himself think of her. Dwelling on the creature tearing into demons before him will lead to an uncomfortable situation, especially on the battlefield. He needs to focus, but Kormac is finding it harder and harder to do so. A chilling blow to his helm snaps him from his moment of weakness, and the Templar sets about dismissing the undead around him.  
It is not until the carnage is done that he dares to look upon her again. Lorelai stands still, and he almost mistakes her for one one of the many crumbling marble statues littered about. There is little difference her and the cold, pale stone, except stone does not bleed as she does now. Something protrudes from her gut, a knife of bone, perhaps- and though she does not seem at all phased, horror runs through Kormac.  
He manages to catch her before her body hits the ground, and watches the life drain from her face. Tears, slow and steady and one by one, drip down his cheeks, cutting lines in the dirt and grime. Quietly, he hears her calling his name, and brushes a hand across her soft skin.  
“Kormac?” She whispers, blood bubbling past her lips.  
“Yes, Lorelai? Yes?” He answers, too quickly and too choked.  
“Kormac?” She calls again, and he wraps his arms about her and pulls her closer. “Kormac, I-”  
“Kormac!”  
There’s a light tapping at his face, and Kormac startles awake, sitting upright quickly. His forehead smacks into someone else’s and they both reel back. Blinking quickly, he spots Lorelai, perched on the edge of his bedroll and cradling her skull in her palms. He realizes she’s cursing under breath with a soft smile, and sits up to wrap a careful hand around her wrist.  
“Why did you wake me? Let me see your head.” Silently, she pulls her hands from her face, studying him with owlish eyes as he leans forward to examine the dark mark upon her brow. It will definitely bruise, as will his own, and that pulls guilt from his gut. The necromancer is fragile, a delicate warrior caught between the void of purgatory. She is neither dead nor living, and the red violet of her lips entices him to pull her to his chest and ravish her. This woman is going to be the utter and complete death of him. Coughing awkwardly, he pulls back from her, standing slowly.  
“Well, Kormac?” Lorelai murmurs, voice soft. “Have you broken my brow bone with your skull?” There’s a mocking lilt to her voice and soon she’s standing. Too close, unfortunately, he can almost, almost feel her breath peek over his nightshirt, dusting his collarbones. Kormac swallows, throat dry and tongue heavy, and forces a clumsy smile to his face.  
“No, I haven’t. You’ll bruise, but by the light, nothing is broken.” His voice is still raspy with sleep, and he swears the platinum blonde before him shivers. Is she cold, or-? No. By the light, he’ll not be having such thoughts about such an honorable woman. “But gods, Lorelai, why did you wake me?”  
It’s not that Kormac was particularly attached to that dream, but he’s wondering why she shook him awake so early. Dawn has not even been thought of, yet.  
“You were rolling about in your sleep and making a fuss. For a few moments I thought you might have been weeping, and I decided to keep you from suffering so, but it appears that shaking you awake is a dangerous affair.” She chuckles, and Kormac can feel his face flush and his pants tighten slightly. Damn it all. Damn that horrifically gorgeous woman. Damn his foolish body.  
“I see. Thank you.” The templar shuffles his weight awkwardly, and Lorelai gives him a strange look. He smiles, sheepish and ashamed, and steps around her. “Pardon me, I must go… Relieve, myself.” Relieve himself indeed. He’s going to strip and leap into the nearest lake. Perhaps the icy water will rid such unwanted thoughts from his head. She nods behind him, and he can hear her sliding back into her place before their campfire as he walks away. 

God’s be damned. What happened to leaping head first into the lake, Kormac? He’s greatly ashamed of himself, even as he fishes his throbbing member from it’s place in his cotton underthings. This is beyond crude to begin with, and he’s quite sure it breaks some sort of vow, however he can’t seem to care much about it as the image of Lorelai wisps it’s way into his brain.  
She isn’t bleeding as she was in his dream, or in the light leather armorment she wore when she woke him. In fact, she’s dressed in a thin linen nightgown. Her silver-blonde hair is braided back in certain places, and her cheeks hold a light flush. There are no purple marks beneath her eyes, her wrists and collarbones are no longer thin, and they do not appear with their usual unhealthy look. There seems to be weight upon her, healthy and as if she had been eating full meals regularly. Just the thought of her being able to eat, to smile as this image of her does, sends shocks up his spine.  
Her breasts are pert beneath the thin cloth of her gown, and she titters as he reaches forward, gently groping at her chest. One of her hands, delicate and well manicured, finds his face, her thumb brushing across his cheek, his lips. Her weight settles upon his hips, though it still is not much weight at all, and the softest of groans escapes him.  
“Kormac,” She whispers, rolling her eyes. They hold a sort of hunger, and he swallows slowly. “We cannot simply hold each other all night. It’s our wedding night, and I’ll be damned if one of us isn’t on their back.”  
That has him grinning, dimples tucked deep in his face. Kormac snags her hips in his hands, and they’re so tiny in his grasp that he makes an effort to be more gentle as he throws Lorelai back, crawling over her and teething at the pale skin of her neck. She whimpers quietly, shuddering under his touch, mumbling-  
“By the light!” Kormac curses, releasing onto some innocent bush, now defiled with his seed. He drags his clean hand across his face with an ashamed, anguished sigh, shoving himself back in his breeches to avoid further embarrassment.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave constructive criticism, either in the comments or in my inbox at: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thetearstained


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